Psycho

The film is shot in color and includes an amped-up Danny Elfman version of Bernard Herrmann's haunting score.

It remains the most structurally elegant and sneakily playful of thrillers. At least some things never change.

Cold, dull, lifeless. [5 December 1998, p.3]

As Norman Bates, Vince Vaughn makes us better appreciate how much Anthony Perkins brought to the original project. It's clear now that he owned the role and that he shares equally with Hitchcock the credit for making Psycho the memorable creep show it is -- and was.

The movie doesn't stink. The performances are good, potentially great, especially Vince Vaughn as Norman Bates.

The thrill of the original is seeing a black-and-white, one-foot-on-the-floor, no-sex-please Hays Code world suddenly explode into a slasher movie. Our loss of innocence has, simply, changed all the rules.

Van Sant's doomed and misguided experiment.

Psycho is not the most successful remake of the original. If Hitchcock's original film is still one of the best thrillers, its remake is second-rate. Not an excellent cast saves, not the transfer of the scene to modern times (at the time of the release of the film). The biggest mistake of the viewer can be watching Psycho 1998 before the original, this can create an erroneous opinion about the original and its influence on the thriller genre as a whole

Not even copying frame by frame. When the film ends, what lingers is not disappointment, because I never really expected much to begin with, nor fascination despite its frame-by-frame reproduction of the original as a supposed remake. What remains instead is an inner emptiness, a kind of indifference that is neither rejection nor appreciation, but the absence of any lasting imprint. The shower scene, the conversation about animal dissection, or even Vince Vaughn simply chewing food are the only fragments that stay with me. In its most iconic sequence, the choice of shower curtains that distort the attacker’s silhouette completely dissolves the tension. The aggression is technically there, but it slips past almost unnoticed. The blood is too pale, too clean, and it never feels grounded in anything resembling physical reality. The dialogue about stuffed animals works as a near verbatim copy—same rhythm, same lines, same framing—offering nothing beyond replication, nothing to carry the weight of the scene. Rather than a remake with its own identity, it feels like a carbon copy stripped of purpose, attempting to resurrect an iconic piece of 1960s cinema without ever finding a reason for its existence. It imitates without making anything feel alive. The performances sabotage the film from within. Vince Vaughn turns Norman Bates into something erratic and almost cartoonish, draining the character of ambiguity and psychological unease. What should feel unsettling instead comes off as unintentionally parodic. In contrast, Anne Heche’s Marion Crane never fully captures the internal tension of the role; her constant smile, even during moments of extreme dramatic weight, erases any real sense of fear or threat. Together, they form a deeply miscast pair that weakens every interaction they share. Joseph Stefano’s screenplay remains intact, originally crafted for Hitchcock and simply reused here for Van Sant. The issue is not the writing itself—it functions because it already did—but the direction imposed on it. Gus Van Sant’s approach flattens everything it touches. There is no added intensity, no interpretative layer. Instead of enhancing what already existed, the mise-en-scène drains it. The pacing is technically fine, yet it feels heavier than its runtime suggests, precisely because the film lacks any creative pulse behind the camera. The music is identical to the original, yet it evokes nothing of the same emotional resonance. The visual treatment only deepens the problem: everything feels colder, despite being in color. Rather than adding depth, it strips it away. Lighting, which in black and white once created texture, contrast, and mystery, here barely registers. The set design is preserved, but the cinematography refuses to elevate it. I struggle to find even a single element that genuinely pushes me toward a positive reading of this film. Its strict fidelity and complete lack of risk end up working against it—ironically, even for someone who usually values faithfulness to the source. Not every film needs to be remade, and this one, more than most, feels unnecessary. And yet, for reasons I can’t fully justify, I still find myself giving it a 4 out of 10, even though nothing in me can clearly explain why it doesn’t go lower.

Vince Vaughn is so laughable it's his best comedy since "Swingers". This is a pointless remake that is below all other remakes, not only is it guilty of being a shot for shot copy of the Hitchcock classic taking no artistic chances with the material to steer in another direction whether or not it's good but i'd rather see that than the exact same movie the came out in the 60's and the directors reasoning for it just irritates me.

What is the point? It has all the faults of the original (see my review of Psycho (1960) for those faults) with some new ones added in like the characters and the casting being worse. Vince Vaughn is the most egregious casting decision. I really didn’t like how Julianne Moore played the character. I kept waiting for William H. Macy to make a joke, the rest of the cast/characters were fine. The sound design and cinematography are an improvement but you’d expect that as it’s nearly forty years later. All the changes they made like what Norman does when he looks through the peep hole and the storm clouds intercut with the iconic murder are a huge detriment to the film. I appreciate the extra blood and that it’s in colour. The focus on Anne Heche’s character is actually really good just like the original even if it makes no sense for her to change her car. This film and the original get less engaging for the second half, pretty much from the cleaning up onwards. If you’ve not seen the original and don’t know the story then this may be watchable otherwise it’s totally pointless. I actually appreciate what they changed in the fruit cellar, that was legitimately better.

A pointless remake of a movie that should have been left alone in the first place. I'd say It's biggest problem is Mr. Vince Vaughn, who I just can't see acting in a film like this.